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The Source of Truth is a Fragile Place

Writing has always been sacred to me. I wrote my first short story in the first grade…and my mother was promptly called to the guidance counselor’s office. What does a seemingly cheerful six year old know about physical abuse? The brutal death of a mother at the hands of her husband. Two orphaned daughters. Tragic. My parents were alive and well, as was my brother. But according to my story, I moved in with my friend and lived with her until I grew up and “bought me a house.”

Maybe it was…


I can't promise you'll like it (please like it).

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